


Two Ships Passing

by BardicRaven



Category: 20th Century Naval Vessels (Anthropomorfic)
Genre: Age of Sail, Anthropomorphic, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Life purpose, Meaning of Life, Sailing, ghost ship - Freeform, naval vessels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/pseuds/BardicRaven
Summary: "You are the most beautiful ship in the world."
Relationships: USS Independence (CV-62) & Amerigo Vespucci (Italian training ship)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 27
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Two Ships Passing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cnoocy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnoocy/gifts).



> Here is the picture that sparked the prompt: https://m4a1-shermayne.tumblr.com/post/144645248714/the-american-aircraft-carrier-uss-independence
> 
> and some information on the USS Independence: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Independence_(CV-62)
> 
> and the Amerigo Vespucci: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_training_ship_Amerigo_Vespucci

I only saw them once, but their words were kind and I remember them still to this day. As happens with such things, their words echo down the years, lasting longer than our bones.

They said I was beautiful and I suppose I am, tho’ I wonder how much of that is because I am outside of time in a sense. The Age of Sail has long passed, save for those few like me who are born to teach the trade to a new generation. Teach sailors from the beginning using a ship as primary as they are, as old as they are new. So I am a rarity, exotic because of it, and therefore worthy of notice and praise.

But perhaps it is simply true. My hull is beautifully crafted, my sails just so as they catch the breeze. I was crafted with care in nearly-forgotten ways, and so I do reflect that care in my appearance to the world.

We passed, they and I, two ships on a wide, wide ocean, and then we were gone. But their words remained, and I think on them to this day. I remember them, long and steel and sharp angles, full of humans and those metal beasts they call ‘airplanes’. Who the master and who the servant, I do not know, could not tell you, and perhaps it is not even possible to say.

What I do know is that we are from different times, different worlds, built for a different purpose, and yet the same. We were built to bring those who sail on us, in us, home safely, and to keep the world around us a little safer as we go.

I heard later, that they were decommissioned, dismantled, gone. Dead, by anyone’s definition. I was saddened to hear that they were gone, that never again would they sail the seas, carrying the metal beasts, being steered into harm’s way by the humans, with luck to come home again, ready for another day. Never to sail the seas together, our paths perhaps to cross. I thought long and hard on my own luck, to be made for the centuries, to have a purpose not easily outmoded.

I thought how easily it is that we are made, and how easily it is that we are destroyed. The humans think little of us beyond our usefulness to them.

They never realize what it is they do.

The humans make us Real, all unknowing, then send us out to die. Or, if we manage to come home again, kill us slowly, having our bones return to the earth as theirs do – but ours are at their hands. I am safe for now – my kind retired from service a long time ago – but the past still lingers and I still know the screams of my kind as they died, wood breaking, bones given to the sea, or under the humans’ hands.

They will never sail the seas again, my long grey admirer, and I will. I do. That is the way of the world, that some pass and others do not. I understand that, accept it because I must, because to do otherwise does nothing, changes nothing.

* * *

I find myself comparing, as I go along my way. Matching the ones I see against the one I met for that brief moment. There are others out there, of course, long grey or white versions of my friend, with the metal monsters on their decks, but they are not the same. They have never hailed me, for one thing, and we ignore each other as we sail the seas apart.

When they die, I do not grieve, do not mourn their passing, except as one ship to another, in the most distant of terms.

I sail the seas and so do they, each on our separate courses, and so the world flows by.

* * *

There are times, when off my flank, I think I see them, sailing far behind me, but when I look more closely, they are never there.

Why do they stick so deeply into my mind, when we only met the once, for that brief moment?

Perhaps it was because they admired me. Perhaps it was because they noticed me, honored me, recognizing that we both had important tasks to do in this world. They did not dismiss me as the relic of a bygone age, rather honored me for what I could still do, did still do

I cannot think of why else, how else, we would have connected so deeply except in the common purpose of seeing our sailors home.

And yet… the visions become more common, happen more often. I begin to wonder if perhaps I too, have sailed my allotment of voyages, if I too, am destined to die, be broken up and with luck, turned into my descendants, more likely to be thrown on the scrap heap, never to sail the seas again.

* * *

And then, it happens. During a time in port, a combination of overhaul and first teachings for the latest class of sailors, they come to me. Faint, misty, and yet there.

Startled, I slosh against my mooring, causing those aboard to look about to see the cause. They see nothing, and I see my admirer. Filling the harbor with their bulk and yet not there at all.

“It’s you!” I cry and they answer. We speak after that, my first words a question: _why?_

_Because you’re beautiful._ they answer.

_That cannot be enough,_ I reply. _Can it?_

_Here, in this moment, yes._

And we speak of other things as well. How it felt. To know they were being decommissioned, the long years while they waited to be broken up, when it finally happened.

What it felt like to be free.

Free of an earthly body, free from the confines of metal and wood, free from the desires and expectations of humans.

Free to sail the seas as they willed, not as the humans willed.

We spoke of this and more and then, as the dawn came lapping at the edges of the sea the way the waves lapped at my sides, they began to fade.

_Will I see you again?_ I asked, suddenly afraid. Losing them before had been bad enough. If I lost them again, the wound would not only be reopened, but deepened with my new knowing, our new understanding and friendship.

_Yes,_ they replied joyfully. _Yes, for I am free._

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this story for you last year and wasn't able to finish it. Imagine my joy when I saw your request again! I hope you like what came out
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> YG


End file.
